


There Could Have Been an Us

by alcrevier



Category: Pretty Little Liars
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-07-16 07:53:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7258951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alcrevier/pseuds/alcrevier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Set during the 6A/6B time jump] After months of little-to-no contact with Emily, Alison finally convinces herself that letting go is the best thing to do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There Could Have Been an Us

**Author's Note:**

> Here's a small one-shot that I wrote within an hour or so. It isn't the happiest story, however, I'm a firm believer that things have to get darker before they get brighter. Either way, I believe these two will always find their way back to one another and I hope you do too.

_ 10:37 P.M. \- ½ mile past the kissing rock. _

Alison stands at the edge of the lake’s shore, small glass bottle in hand. She turns it in her palm and eyes the contents with an unreadable expression. There, inside the clear, glass bottle is a folded up, crumbled, and torn slightly note with various ink smudges and visible cross-outs. 

Looking down at the dark, moonlit water, she swallows hard and takes a deep breath, reminding herself that, hopefully, the universe will find a way to bring her any form of peace. She lifts the container to her lips and gently places a kiss near the sealed opening before gently tossing it a few feet away, hoping that it doesn’t snag a rock once it hits the water. 

To her luck, it bobbles with the current as waves fold in and out, eventually taking it further out of the lake’s tree-covered inlet. The blonde sighs and tucks her hands into her baggy hoodie as she takes a few steps back and sits on a nearby, smooth rock. Tears well up in her eyes before she hastily wipes at her face and takes another deep breath. Goodbyes are never easy, she knows that, however saying goodbye to someone who had left quite some time ago is even more difficult. 

So, here she remains, broken but fighting for every ounce of sanity that she can grasp onto, while her love continues to flow constantly in the direction of someone who isn’t even welcoming it with open arms -- she’s given up on positive thinking, though, and she’s realized that it’s time to let go. 

In order to do so, she sat down hours ago, teary eyed and stuffed up, to write a letter to her (almost) lover:

 

_ “Dear Mermaid, _

_ Years ago, you would have assumed that I would never chase you if you walked away; you would have assumed that, if you left, I wouldn’t follow and I’d stay silent. And, maybe sometimes, had you said that, I would have argued with you and told you that you’re stupid for thinking that.  _

_ Not today -- you were right.  _

_ Em, when you left, I didn’t follow… and I want you to know that it’s not because I didn’t want to follow you. If life was solely based upon love and light, I would follow you to the ends of the earth and, God, I hope you know that. Unfortunately, there’s also badness in the world -- in me. Once everything was all said and done here, I couldn’t find the voice in me to beg for another chance or ask you to hear me out. You deserve so much more than what I’ve put you through and what I possibly would have put you through… and I hope you find what you deserve someday. _

_ After you ran out of that dollhouse… I finally understood that my life isn’t a fairytale. I thought that, once you fell into my arms, you’d feel at home. Sadly, I think you felt anything but at home… and that thought was burnt into my mind once you ignored me until the day you left for college… and, days ago, when you left after your father’s funeral with nothing but a second-hand “goodbye” from Spencer.  _

_ Things were so complicated between us from the get-go. Sometimes, I’m not even sure if there ever was an official “us.” It would have had a nice ring to it, huh? Alison and Emily… Emily and Alison… It still makes me smile when I think of it, even if it’s just what could have been.  _

_ I miss you. God, I miss you so fucking much and it’s so hard to get through some days without wanting to pick up the phone, but I wouldn’t know what to say if I did. How can you possibly ask the person that you’ve loved for years how they’re doing, especially when the only thing you’ve spoken about in months is the death of their father? You can’t… or at least I can’t. I’ve never been good with expressing myself. We both know that, first hand.  _

_ I just can’t help but think… had I cared a little more after the dollhouse or maybe if I didn’t give you as much space as I did… you would have stayed. By your own choice, I mean. With me. _

_ There could have been an us. _

_ But, I’m afraid it’s too late.  _

_ I need to let go. _

_ Yours forever, Alison.” _

 

It was a thin piece of paper holding a great deal of feelings and regrets and, honestly, Alison was scared to even put her thoughts out there. She wondered if some nutty fisherman would find it or, possibly, someone with a much darker agenda. Though her sister remains in treatment, that doesn’t mean bad people don’t still lurk around tree trunks. 

The broken, blonde girl pushes herself off of the rock and shakes the dust off of her jeans as she takes one last glance at the water and sees that the bottle is nowhere in sight. Muttering one last goodbye and shedding yet another tear, she makes her way back along the trail, eventually to pass the kissing rock where they had shared one of their most intimate moments, and head home to a life that she’s been clinging onto with every ounce of strength she has left. 

Little to Alison’s knowledge, her bottle floats along the lake for the night, eventually making its way to an adjacent shoreline within the next few days where it washes up next to another message-filled bottle. 

This bottle, sent three days before Alison’s, holds a shorter, yet similar weight-infused note, scribbled onto a small, tear stained piece of paper by a frustrated brunette who, in the end, had settled on only a few impactful words:

 

_ “It’s always going to be you, Ali.” _

**Author's Note:**

> If you've made it to this note, I want to thank you for reading. This short story was fueled by a difficult revelation I had last night, so I've been writing non-stop in order to occupy myself; it's a nice outlet and I 10/10 recommend it.   
> Anyway, I'm currently working on another, much longer, Emison story. It'll be an AU but (within the nine chapters that I already have written) they keep the aspects that we know and love from the actual show. I'll likely be posting it sometime during 7A. Keep an eye out for it!


End file.
